Where the Streets Have No Name

Sunday morning I woke up early in my latest beach rental. 6:00 am rested and ready to start my day. I woke to a wonderful treat of a snow dusted winter morning.


The evening before had been a frigid, sleeting mess. This light powder was enough to lure me out of the warm house and onto the streets by 7am. I had a new playlist ready and I was layered up for the 32 degree temps. I headed south out of the neighborhood. I could see the sun peeking over the Rudee Bridge as I got closer. I hit the base of the bridge and steadily began my climb up and over to the Croatan side. As I reached the top, I looked down and noticed the boat docks covered in snow.

Not a normal sight.

I reached the other side and snapped this picture.

My goal was to start the climb back to the top and snap a picture of the sun coming up over the water. As I reached the top, my iPhone died. I think it may have been too cold, because the battery read 74% when I left the house. Nevertheless, I continued along admiring the bright sun as it contrast the freezing cold temperatures. I ran the Rudee Loop and hit the boardwalk heading North. The wind was brutal. The sand began to pelt my face. I ran in silence, no tunes and no other runners in sight. I made a U turn and headed back South on the street, looking for a buffer of the wind. Then out of nowhere the U2 song came into my head. “Where The Streets Have No Name,” seemed appropriate. This verse in particular felt appropriate as I raced uncharted, sun beaming on me.

“I want to run
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I want to reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name

I want to feel sunlight on my face
I see the dust cloud disappear
Without a trace
I want to take shelter from the poison rain
Where the streets have no name”

No cars, no other pedestrians, no bikers, no one at all. I was running right down the middle of Atlantic Avenue. I ruled the street! It was mine even if for those brief few minutes. It was an odd feeling not having to share the road or be mindful of where I was running. The streets seemed to be nameless, surely this couldn’t be Atlantic Avenue…one of the busiest of all of our city streets. But oddly it was and for the moment I enjoyed it. I eased my way back across to the neighborhood. A solid 4 miles completed in silence and in the cold. It was one of the best runs I’ve had in a while.

Happy Running


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